Hogwarts or Bust
by Aristeas
Summary: Mr Weasley is faced with a terrible dilemma: can he afford to send Ron back to Hogwarts? Or will it cost him everything?


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Dumbledore, or the unfortunate garden gnomes in this story. Nobody owns them. Not J.K. Rowling, not Warner Brothers, not no-one. They are, in fact, Jungian archetypes which reside in the collective unconscious and which manifest themselves in dreams and fantasies in the form of particular types (wizards, witches, gnomes, etc.). Not only do these figures make a regular appearance in folk tales and myths, but the tales themselves also contain universal template within the narrative (for instance the metamorphosis from weak to strong, man to beast, etc). That is why we all love and understand these types and themes: they belong to us, the folk!

There you are, fans, _that's _what you tell the critics who say you steal ideas from other people.

**Hogwarts or Bust**

Mr Weasley emerged from The Burrow into the mellow September sunshine. Ron was squatting in the cabbage patch. Suddenly he leapt with a cry of triumph, brandishing something brown and gnarled. It was a garden gnome.

'That's the seventh today!' he cried, whirling it round his head by the foot. His father approached, and when Ron caught sight of his look of dejection he let go of the gnome.

'What's up, Dad?'

There was a smash as the gnome went through the roof of the neighbour's greenhouse.

'I'm sorry, Ron, I don't know how to break this gently. It's about Hogwarts. You know your mother and I have been struggling to pay the fees for some time now. Well, we've come to the end of the line. Charlie's been living it up in Romania and he's run up debts. I've written to Dumbledore explaining our special circumstances and asking if he'd consider waiving the fees this year, but he says he's sorry...'

'But, Dad, I have to go back to Hogwarts! There's a new and very suspicious teacher for Defence against the Dark Arts, Professor Oleaginous Creep. He's bound to be mysteriously in league with the Dark Lord and so he'll be wanting Harry bumped off. I have to be there!'

Mr Weasley shook his head.

'I'm sorry, Ron, but what can I do?'

Ron reached up and grabbed the foot of a gnome which was scuttling up an apple tree. Thoughtfully he began spinning it round his head. After a good minute he let go.

'Dad, I've got it!' he cried. There was another smash. This time it was Percy's bedroom window. A furious face emerged, and the next thing Ron knew was that he was smacked fair and square in the face by the gnome. He flung it over the garden fence in a preoccupied way.

'Look, Dad... That car you made... it's brilliant! Muggles would kill for something like that. Why don't you go to a Muggle's scrap heap, pick up a few old cars, customise them so that they fly, include things like the Invisibility Booster and sell them back to the Muggles! You'd make a fortune! Then we could go to Gringotts, change it into wizard money, pay the fees and bank the rest. Then I could show my bulging vault to Harry with pride...'

Again, Mr Weasley shook his head sadly.

'It's no good, son. You know I work for the Ministry of Magic in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office. It couldn't be worse. I'd have to report myself to me! And anyway, what about my responsibility to the Muggles? They wouldn't be able to handle this kind of magic, they'd get themselves into terrible trouble...'

'But think about it, Dad... What's the alternative? I go to the local Muggle state school where they're bound to beat me up, while Harry is killed by the evil Lord Voldemort?'

Distracted, Arthur Weasley bent down and grabbed a large brown ear that was sticking out of a blackberry bush. He pulled and a furious gnome emerged, squealing like a stuck pig. He tossed it over his shoulder without bothering to spin it, and it landed with a 'splosh' in the duck pond over the road.

'You're right, son. I can't let that happen. After all, I don't _have_ to tell myself what I'm up to. And, thinking about it, the Muggles are an unpleasant lot. Fat, greedy, with bulging eyes and not a neck between them. Look at that Hermione Granger's parents for a start... Yes, they don't deserve protection from me. Ron, I'll do it! Let's go to the scrap heap this afternoon!'

At this point Mrs Weasley's head emerged from the kitchen window. 'Lunch!' she cried.

-

They were just sitting down to a wonderful spread of roast chicken, roast beef, roast lamb and roast gnome when there was a knock at the door. His heart sank as Ron opened the door to a small man in a green uniform with glinting silver badge on his peaked cap.

'Sorry to bother you during your lunch...' Arthur Weasley did not like the look of the man; nor did he like his whining, smarmy voice, '...but I've been watching you and your son in the garden...'

Beads of sweat broke out on Mr Weasley's forehead. This must be some official from the Ministry... He must have overheard their plan. He and his family were done for!

The official smirked as he produced his identity card with a flourish. All Mr Weasley could make out were the letters 'RSPCGG'.

'May I introduce myself? I am Mr Odo Squelch from the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Garden Gnomes, and I am arresting you for no fewer than ten counts of gnome torture.'


End file.
